January 22, 2014

Not once, not not twice. So many times I get asked why I am not posting as much. The other day, someone asked me if my muse was gone. Even suggested I go to a coffee shop to get inspiration. Now that is someone who reads me far too much. I do not lack something to say. Heaven knows there is even much more going on inside my mind. It's a whirlwind in there. As I child, someone told me that if you covered a whirlwind with a basin, then uncovered it, a snake would appear. Now I never tried that, mostly because even then, I wondered who was that idle to go covering whirlwinds with basins. But that's my mind. I am scared to cover it up. I do not want to find out what happens then.I am laying on my bed in my hotel room. Hotel rooms do two things to me. Remind me that I am lonely or give me that serenity that comes from finally being alone, kicking off the jeans and the shoes, getting rid of the bra and just letting the air around me caress my body in ways that only the unseen can. I am looking out through the glass sliding doors, past the tiny porch, and out into the lake. Well, what used to be the lake. I am looking at a marsh of green, big lily-like leaves, too bulky looking to even sway in the gentle evening breeze. It was raining earlier. As I type this, the clouds are parting to let through the sun rays. So bright I have to lower my head to hide my eyes with my laptop.Marsh.I cannot see the water. But I think I can hear it. Far, beyond, somewhere deep in my mind. It could be a memory of what I once experienced, or a flashback of a sound I heard somewhere. But, its as real as if I was looking at it. It's a cry, not loud. Not weepy and needy. It's a sniffle, one that accepts helplessness, but does not accept powerlessness.